


Baby Steps (Toward a Life Worth Living)

by Starchild (DouxAnge)



Series: Bats According to Stars [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alfred isn't paid enough, Bruce is a trying, Dami needs a hug, No Beta, Sibling Rivalry, Tags Are Hard, Talia can die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29617689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DouxAnge/pseuds/Starchild
Summary: Bruce takes in a foster kid.Damian is not happy.
Series: Bats According to Stars [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2173989
Kudos: 2





	Baby Steps (Toward a Life Worth Living)

The last thing I expected to happen today was Jim Gordon knocking on my door to ask a favour. Apparently, a kid came into the station saying that his mom took too much and wasn’t responding, and his dad was in jail. Officers went to the apartment to find the kid’s mother cold and stiff. With no other family and all the shelters full, Jim asked me to take him in as a foster. 

Naturally, I said yes.

The boy, Jason, did not like the idea of staying with me. 

Alfred is standing in the doorway as I sweep up the shards of glass from the broken vase Jason kicked over. I can feel the arched brow as my pseudo-father watches me. Neither of us say anything as I stand and walk over to the trash can and dump the glass into it. Without even looking at Alfred, I skirt around him and start to make my way towards the home gym. Even from two halls over I can hear Jason and Damian yelling. 

“Are we not going to talk about this, Bruce?” 

“Talk about what, Alfred? How I kept that kid off the streets and out of trouble?”

“No, Bruce. About how you still feel the need to make up for mistakes that were not your own regarding Damian. Nothing that woman did is on you, Bruce, and I’ll be damned if I let you continue thinking that they are!” The entire speech I had prepared dies on my tongue.

Slowly, I stop walking and turn to face Alfred. He looks much more tired than I’ve ever seen him, and I sigh. The older man closes the distance between us and rests a hand on my shoulder. He opens his mouth to say something, but before a single word gets out something heavy hits the ground in the room behind us. We both jump, sharing an alarmed look before rushing into the gym.

Damian is panting, glaring down at Jason who is starfished on the mats with one of the shelves next to him. My son glances at me before stalking out the back door. Jason picks himself up and shakes his limbs out. When he looks at Alfred and I, the bruises are already forming. He moves to walk past us, but I grab his shoulder before he makes it out the door. Even with his head down I can see the blood leaking from his nose.

“Alfred, take care of Jason. I’ll go talk to Damian.” Without waiting for an answer, I march across the gym and out the other door. 

Just as I suspected, the door to Damian’s studio is locked. Knowing that knocking is useless, I pull the key from under the flower pot next to the door and unlock it. My son glares at me from where he’s sprawled out on the rug, pencil falling still. 

“What?” he growls, glare intensifying. 

“Just wanted to talk, Dami. What happened?”

“None of your damn business.” Teenagers.

“It is my business, Damian, because you are my son. I love you, and I want to help, but I can’t do that if I don’t know what happened.” The fifteen year old drops his head, continuing to work on his drawing. I take a deep breath, preparing to walk out when I hear it. Barely audible, but there. Sure enough, when I look again tears are dripping onto the paper.

“The brat said I would never understand what it feels like to live every day knowing that nothing you do will ever be enough. To never be good enough to earn the attention others get just for being alive.” He takes a shaky breath. “Father, I’m sorry for letting my temper get the best of me, but I will not apologize for what I said to him.” 

“And what did you say to him, Damian?” I ask after several seconds of silent debate. When he lifts his head to look at me, all I can see is his mother.

“I told him that no matter how bad his life seems, someone will always have it worse at some point and he should just suck it up and carry on in silence like the rest of us. No one is special. Everyone goes through tough times that either kill them or give them a new perspective on life.” 

It takes a full three minutes to process his words.

“If that creature ever sets foot within ten square miles of you, I will do everything in my power to make sure it never happens again,” I growl, more to myself than anything. Damian is there one second and gone the next, door left wide open. 

Maybe Alfred was right. I really need to work on my parenting.


End file.
